


Breathing in Time With Yours

by Lazchan



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-12
Updated: 2017-05-12
Packaged: 2018-10-30 22:26:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10886175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lazchan/pseuds/Lazchan
Summary: Yuri learns a little more about Yuuri and takes a moment to understand what he's learned.





	Breathing in Time With Yours

Yuri found himself at odds inside the inn; Yuuri off running somewhere around the town and Viktor getting  _ drunk _ in the town. He was in a small, side room and he stared around at the walls, making a face at the trophies and medals hung up on shelves. 

“Not a good skater my ass,” Yuri muttered, stepping closer and making an annoyed huff at the lack of a readable language. He paused in front of a lower-end shelf, this time with a picture of what  _ had _ to be a younger Yuuri, his arms around a small poodle. 

“Katsudon liked poodles even then, huh?” he muttered to himself. He didn’t realize anyone came in from behind him until he heard a voice. 

“That’s Vicchan.” He whirled around to see Mari, Yuuri’s older sister staring down at him, expression thoughtful. 

“Huh? Isn’t that what your mom calls Viktor?” he demanded. He stared at the picture, then back up at Mari. He hadn’t seen any poodles about, other than the oversized monster that was Makkachin. 

Mari smirked and shrugged. “Yeah, well--” she didn’t elaborate on the name, but instead knelt next to the small area, flicking out a lighter to light a stick of incense next to the photo. “Vicchan was Yuuri’s poodle when he was a kid.” 

“Was?” Yuri felt a twisting in his stomach; he had a pet of his own, but nothing weird like a  _ dog _ . Cats were much better in his opinion, but if this was … “Oh--” he bit his lip. “What happened?” he asked, voice softer than before. It was a  _ memorial  _ of sorts. 

“He died last year,” Mari chewed on her lip, “Right in between Yuuri’s final two competitions during the Grand Prix. We didn’t mean to tell him, it just… slipped out, when he called to tell us how he was doing.” Her expression was filled with guilt, even now, months later. “It … broke him.” 

Yuri gave her a horrified look. “That’s why he broke down?” he demanded. “He had been in third place with his short program…” He had wondered what had made the graceful skater he’d seen during the first half of the competition flub his skating so hard in the second half. Some skaters crashed with the pressure, but this was something entirely different. He winced, remembering how he had shouted abuse at Yuuri for disappointing him. 

“Yeah, he had Vicchan since he was twelve and then when Yuuri went away to Detroit to skate…” she shrugged and stood up, brushing a hand through her hair. “He felt so guilty that he couldn’t be there with his dog. He’d been looking forward to being with Vicchan after he graduated, but….” 

Yuri looked down at his feet. He’d at least been close to Potya; he’d refused to move to St. Petersburg without his cat. When he came home at the end of every training session, his cat was there to wrap herself around his ankles or flop on his chest, purring and soothing away all the aggravation of a long, frustrating day. He couldn’t imagine her  _ dying _ without him being there. 

Scratch that, he didn’t want to imagine her dying at all, but if something happened, he’d want to be there and not in the middle of a competition. 

He looked down at the picture again, small and chubby Katsudon, smiling brightly with all the joy a twelve year old could muster. “I should apologize to him,” he murmured to himself, but Mari heard it and rested a hand on his shoulder. 

“Don’t go saying all that to him,” Mari warned. “Yuuri’s… private. Just-- understand, yeah?” she asked, looking hesitant. “He’s a good kid and he’s talented…and don’t stop being hard on him.” She gave him a wicked grin. “He needs someone to drive him forward.”

He laughed and stood up straighter. He’d already had the measure of him and Mari just confirmed it. “I’ll kick his ass all the way back to the Grand Prix Finals,” he reassured her, smile bright and vicious. 

~

Yuri thought Viktor would have known about Yuuri’s dog, but judging by the way he was acting over his and Yuuri’s argument, Yuri wasn’t so sure.  _ Either he’s being horribly dense as to why Katsudon’s being so insistent, or he simply doesn’t know. No matter what, the moron should be with his dog. I thought he loved the stupid mutt.  _

Yuri sighed and pushed a hand through his hair as Viktor finally gave in, even if it was saddling them with an angry, anxious-ridden Yuuri for the rest of the competition.  _ It’s going to be like Sochi all over again _ , he winced and hoped that Yuuri would be able to get it together long enough to actually skate. It wasn’t like Makkachin was his and at least the dog hadn’t kicked the bucket yet. There wasn’t any reason to get all mopey and screw up his free skate. 

He dragged Yuuri off once Viktor was gone, pointing to the ice with a resolute expression that would have done Yakov proud. “Skate, Katsudon,” he snapped. “You need to do it and it’ll get your mind off that overgrown, walking mop that the old man calls a dog.”

He ignored Yuuri’s protests that Makkachin was a sweet old dog, that he was just concerned -- for reasons that he didn’t elaborate on, but Yuri ignored all of them and practically shoved Yuuri onto the ice. 

“I skate when I don’t have my cat nearby,” he said softly, not looking at Yuri. It was easier to be nicer to him when no one was watching and making fun of him for being nice. If Yuuri blabbed anything, he’d deny it all. “It’s relaxing, this sort of ---” he waved his hand at the silent arena, no one around to stare or judge. “Just skating,”

Yuuri was staring at him, mouth open and eyes wide, before a wry smile made its way to his face. “You too?” he asked, moving in easy figures on the ice, breathing evening out from the almost frantic ones from earlier. “Before I got Vicchan…” his voice trailed off for a moment and he bit his lip. “My… my old dog,” he said slowly. 

“No, I thought you meant Viktor,” Yuri snorted, waving that off as if he didn’t already know the story. “I know the old man means a lot to you, but he sure as hell doesn’t seem to get rid of your anxiety.” 

Yuuri snorted at that. “He helps more than you think,” he huffed, but he was still smiling. “I skate when I’m really anxious. I always have--that or dance. It’s two of the things that I… I’ve always had in my life.”

“Huh, yeah-- well, it’s relaxing and fun,” Yuri smiled a little. It was nice to think that he and Yuuri had something in common, even though he’d die before he’d admit it to anyone else. This could be his and Katsudon’s little secret. “You should think of your performances the same way,” he had to add He couldn’t be  _ nice _ all the time. He had a reputation to maintain.

“It’s harder sometimes,” Yuuri said slowly, lazy figures still graceful with easy twist of his skates. “I love competing… when I got older and people seemed to get better and better…” his voice trailed off for a moment and Yuri was going to chuck his skates at Yuuri’s head if the moron said something like ‘and that’s when I gave up’ because that wasn’t what skating was about  _ at all _ . 

Yuuri gave a little laugh. “It made me want to fight harder,” he said, keeping Yuri from committing homicide. “I wanted to push myself higher and higher… but then…” the smile fell away from his face. “No one seemed to think the same way around me. They’d see me fall and say ‘it’s okay, you’ll do better next time. It’s okay, it’s only one fall.” He laced his hands behind his head, staring up at the ceiling. “And then you come along, scaring the crap out of me, telling me to get my act together.”

Yuri snorted. “Yeah, you needed someone to kick you in the ass.” He hesitated a moment. “Even when life is really shitty, you gotta remember that you can push yourself past it or… god, jeez-- use whatever’s bugging you in your skating and make it work.” He noticed Yuuri’s look of surprise and flushed. “It’s what Lilia says,” he said defensively. “Use your pain to make beauty and all that shit.”

“She sounds interesting,” Yuuri laughed. He hadn’t really met Lilia yet, but Yuri was certain that she’d love to get her claws in Yuuri, with his classical ballet training that showed even now. At least he wasn’t as tense and the expression in his eyes wasn’t so forlorn. 

“Yeah, well-- she’s not all that bad,” he smirked. “She gave me a program that will leave yours in the dust tomorrow.” He crossed his arms over his chest and hoped he looked as confident and arrogant as he wanted to portray. It was mostly truth and a little bit of egging Yuuri on. 

Yuuri gave him a smirk, bending his back in a show of flexibility that Yuri didn’t think he had in him, moving into a spread eagle with ease. “We’ll see about that,” he said, no longer whisping about on the ice, but skating with purposeful movements. “I see that you’re  _ so _ confident, that you’re not even skating. You don’t mind me getting an edge on you?”

“You’ll need all the edge you can get to beat me,” Yuri shot back and the rest of the evening devolved into soft, teasing barbs tossed back and forth. Yuri was confident this would fix everything for tomorrow. 

~

It didn’t, but Yuri liked to think that he had helped a little. Yuuri hadn’t been on the bottom and he didn’t need to hunt Yuuri down in the toilet again, listening to him cry into the phone. The attempt to hug everyone had been creepy as hell and Yuri almost preferred the tears to the dead-eyed expression of relief that Yuuri had given the entire group of skaters. 

~

It was when Yuuri was in St. Petersburg this time, not for a competition, but because he finally got his head out of his ass and chose to keep skating. Yuri thought it was a good enough decision, that he could reward him with what was probably the best thing of all. 

Yuuri looked wide-eyed around Lilia and Yakov’s house and Yuri pulled him past the old people pictures and knicknacks and to his room, where Potya was resting on a mound of clothes. “No one’s home,” he huffed, “so don’t get all worked up, Katsudon.” 

Yuuri held up his hands and just smiled, then looked down at the ball of fur. “Your cat?” he asked, not moving any closer and not reaching for her immediately, something that Yuri appreciated. Most people didn’t understand you couldn’t just scoop up a cat like it was some sort of stunted dog. 

“Yeah--” Yuri sat down on the edge of the bed carefully. “Her name is Potya.” At hearing her name, Potya stretched and moved over to Yuri’s lap, nuzzling his arm and then made an inquisitive little chirp at Yuuri’s presence. “That’s Katsudon,” he grinned at her, rubbing over the tip of her nose. “But he’s also called Yuuri.” 

Potya jumped off of the bed and stood next to Yuri, making a demanding meow and Yuri hid a laugh behind his hand. “She wants you to pick her up,” he said. “Or toss a toy, but since she’s climbing on you---” He was a little stunned at how easily Potya was taking to Yuuri, but he hid it well. “I think she wants to investigate the weirdo in her space.”

Yuuri was standing completely frozen, only wincing a little as Potya’s claws dug into his skin as she made her way upward, before finally setting on his shoulders, purring and butting her head against the side of his neck. “Um…” 

“I think you’ve made a friend,” Yuri said dryly, but his smile was wide on his face. “She usually doesn’t warm up to people that fast.” As if Yuuri had already made a comment, his next words were fast and defensive. “But she’s the  _ best _ cat, she’s always been there for me, ever since I came to St. Petersburg.” 

He could admit that now, but he kept his face turned away from Yuuri as he said it. He carefully edged closer to the bed and started to sit down, but Potya dug her claws in harder and Yuri had to laugh again. Yuuri was going to get uncomfortable like that. He knew from experience. 

He stood up and gently pried Potya from Yuuri’s shoulder, pushing Yuuri down with his foot and then laying his cat in his lap. “There, more comfortable for the both of you,” he said quickly. “You’d probably drop her when she clawed you or something.” 

Yuuri smiled and hesitantly ran his fingers down her spine, touch barely there, skimming over the edge of Potya’s fur. “I never had a cat,” he said. “When I was twelve, I had a poodle.” He continued stroking over her fur, growing more confident at the deep purr that vibrated through the small body. “He died when I was at Sochi.”

Yuri bit his lip and reached over to pet Potya. He couldn’t saw he knew already; Mari had asked him to keep quiet. Still… “I’m sorry,” he finally admitted. “For screaming at you. I … I didn’t know.”  _ At that time _ . It didn’t excuse all the other times he’d been rude and cruel to Yuuri. 

“Nobody did,” Yuuri shrugged. “I haven’t even told Viktor yet. I didn’t want to worry him even more over Makkachin when he was sick and even now-- I don’t want to him to think about such things.”

“Oh, but it’s okay for me?” Yuri poked him in the side, but he wasn’t actually mad. “Nevermind, I understand. The mutt’s old as hell and the old man doesn’t need to lose anymore hair worrying about her.”

Yuuri’s face flushed and he almost jumped, but Yuri kept a firm hand on his shoulder. “Potya’s sleeping,” he snapped. “I know you didn’t mean what you said, Hell, I’m surprised you trusted me with that.” He rubbed a hand against the back of his neck. 

“Yeah… well, you deserved an explanation,” Yuuri said softly. “It took me awhile to figure out you were disappointed in me. You just handled it differently than everyone else.” 

Yuri snorted at that, but Yuuri wasn’t finished. “You’re absolutely a hot-headed brat, but I guess that’s what I needed. You and a few others reminded me…” he rested his hand deep in Potya’s fur, just breathing with her. “Reminded me to keep skating, to enjoy myself-- and to keep pushing harder and harder.” 

“Huh, maybe I should kick you around some more,” Yuri didn’t know what to say to words that he didn’t really deserve. “Maybe I can beat some talent into you for you to actually get that gold medal you’ve been working towards.” He paused and smirked. “Just not when I’m competing against you. I’ll wipe the floor with you.”

“Even with Viktor skating again?” Yuuri didn’t seem bothered by his taunts.

“Especially with you and Viktor being distracted and disgusting with each other on the ice,” Yuri grinned. “You’ll be all worried about being lovey-dovey and skating against each other, it’ll be a breeze that first year.”

Yuuri’s expression surprised him, though. “If Viktor think that he can just skate all over me because we’re in love, he has another thing coming.” Yuuri tilted his chin up, proud and sure of himself. “I’ll show up that I can do anything he expects me to do and more.” His look turned sly. “After all, I did beat one of his World Records.” 

“And I got the other,” Yuri was proud of him. It was fine to skate for Viktor; god knows, he skated for his Grandpa and a few other people that actually  _ meant _ something to him, along the way. It was another to give up everything for that person. Yuuri had been so close to doing such a thing that Yuri could still taste the rage lingering at the back of his mind. “We’ll  _ both _ show the old man he’s got real competition.” 

Yuuri just shook his head, but he looked sure of himself-- confident in the way that Yuri remembered from seeing in poses from Yuuri’s Junior years. Ready to conquer the skating world. It was a shame that it took so long for Yuuri to find it again, but Yuri wasn’t about to let the idiot squander his talent any longer.

He looked down at Potya sleeping peacefully in Yuuri’s lap. “Ever think about getting a cat?”

Yuuri just laughed at that and Yuri took that as a go to extol the virtues of cats over dogs. He could only imagine Viktor’s face if he convinced Yuuri to bring home a cat to be introduced to their weird household. Maybe Yuri would feel more inclined to visit them if there was a  _ cat  _ around. Using that as fuel, he pressed his case harder.

Yuuri just laughed and ruffled his hair gently. “Maybe one day I’ll get a pet of my own again.” There was a far away look in his eyes and Yuri poked him in the side away so that he wouldn’t have to deal with a mopey Yuuri in his room. 

“That’s right, show Viktor you’re not just a freeloader, but you’ve established a claim,” he said firmly. “And you can have more than just the mutt to fight over when you get home from skating and competitions.” 

“Alright, alright-- I see your point,” he allowed. “Tomorrow, after practice-- why don’t you come with me and Viktor and we can start looking around?” 

Yuri wanted to protest that he wanted it to be a tricky surprise for Viktor, but he figured that it was probably better this way. He wouldn’t admit to the part of him that was happy that even after all he had done and said to Yuuri, he was being so easily included in even haphazard plans.

He could get used to having Yuuri around. 


End file.
